


Caged

by nobodyson



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-18 02:34:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3552812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nobodyson/pseuds/nobodyson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>2x10 AU Murphy finds himself trapped in Mount Whether beneath cages full of grounders. However, the very last person he expected to see is thrown into his cage with him, forcing the pair to come to terms with each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Well, shit." Murphy leans backwards against the rusty bars of the tiny cage, running a hand over his jaw. Bellamy’s head snaps around to face him, the scars and scratches on his face made clear by the sickly gleam of the lights at the other end of the cage. 

"Murphy? Is that you?" He leaned in closer, peering into the darkened corner that held Muprhy’s slumped figure. "You gotta be fucking me," he muttered, sinking against the opposite cage wall.

”Not presently, no,” Murphy grinned, pushing himself into the light, closer to Bellamy. Bellamy glared at him warily, crossing his arms and breathing out slowly. 

"Aw, c’mon, Bellamy. This can’t be that bad, can it? We shared a tent for weeks, you had no problems then."

"Shut-up, Murphy," He grumbled, shifting against the thin metal floor, "What are you even doing here anyway?" 

"Me? Are you kidding? This is my new job, Bellamy. I’ve finally found the only thing I’m good at…. getting caught." 

"Oh, yeah? How’s that working out for you? Much money in it?"

"You know, some days are better than others. I mean, I’ve been here, what, 5 days? And they haven’t tortured me once! Much better treatment than certain other places I’ve visited of course…"

Bellamy huffed, a noise somewhat reminiscent of a laugh. Murphy looked up to his, a faint smile left on his lips and his eyes questioning. But before Bellamy could register his expression, it was gone, replaced by the familiar cocky smirk. 

"So how does it feel then, your highness? You’ve finally sunk down to my level."

"You wish, Murphy. I’ve never been at you’re level."

Murphy’s laugh echoed throughout the empty warehouse for a second, before being drowned out by the whirring fans and moans of grounders drifting down from the level above them. 

"Well, Bellamy, you do a pretty stand up job of pretending to be an asshole."

"Whatever," Bellamy leant his head against the cage door with a loud thud, exposing the strengthened tendons of his neck. 

Murphy remembered a time where the sight of Bellamy’s skin, muscles and flesh sent unfamiliar chills down his spine and made his toes curl. When Bellamy’s attention and gaze made warmness spread in the bottom of his stomach, and he didn’t even try to fight it. 

He looked down at the scratched floor, a hint of bitterness creeping into his mouth. Bellamy swallowed loudly and when Murphy looked up again his eyes were closed, hands against his thighs. 

Probably thinking about his blonde princess, he thought, she’s probably bust a gut already worrying about him. He shook his head, long hair flopping into his eyes again. The darkness of the corner seemed rather inviting to him, considering that Bellamy seemed to be done talking. 

Murphy gritted his teeth and started to pull his leg out from under him, but the pain was just a little bit too strong and he was feeling just a little bit too weak. A soft gasp escaped his lips, followed by a resonating groan of pain. 

"You hurt?" Bellamy’s voice came from the other end of the cage, laced with something indeterminable.

"What’s it matter to you?" Murphy bit back, yanking his leg out with a grunt. He looked back up through his fringe to see Bellamy shrug.

"Your leg?" 

Murphy paused for an extended moment, before nodding.

"Poison dagger, that’s how they got me. I was asleep."

"What, in the camp?"

"Yes, in the camp. Kane and his buddies let in a grounder troop and then they all sat down for a cup of tea. No, not in the camp…. In the drop ship.”

"What the hell were you doing there?" Bellamy leaned forward, trapping Murphy in his bulletproof gaze. Damn him. 

"I dunno. Maybe I got bored of playing babysitters back at Camp Stick-in-the-ass."

"So you just… deciding to hang out in the drop ship for a while. On your own."

Murphy held Bellamy’s gaze and shrugged nonchalantly again. 

"Wow, you really are an idiot, Murphy."

"Wouldn’t be the most stupid thing I’ve done."

"No, I guess not." There was a moment of pause where both boys regarded each other, their minds lingering on the days before everything went to hell. The days of their…friendship. Murphy swallowed thickly and turned back to his leg. The makeshift bandage he had wrapped around the wound was soaked through with blood and smelled like rotting flesh. He cringed as he unwrapped it gingerly. 

Murphy stared at the open wound for a moment, feeling decidedly less optimistic about his chances of survival. But the sound of tearing fabric jerked his attention up to Bellamy who was sitting closer to him. And, shirtless. He was tearing the bottom part of his ratty shirt to shreds.

"What are you doing?" Murphy asked dumbly, staring at Bellamy’s wide chest.

Bellamy looked up at Murphy, smirking. “What, still into this?” He teared the next piece of fabric slowly, maintaining eye contact with Murphy.

"Yeah, you wish," he replied, narrowing his eyes. No, those days were definitely over.

Bellamy shifted even closer to Murphy, crouched over in the low cage. He peered at the knife gash through the tear in his pants. 

"The wound’s infected" he muttered, gathering up the torn strips.

"You learn that from your princess?" Murphy teased.

"She’s not my princess," he replied quickly.

"No? Well, who is? Don’t tell me the King is without a queen?" Bellamy’s eyes flicked up to Murphy’s face again. He wondered if he would take the bait.

"I don’t want a queen… or a princess," he muttered quietly. 

His reply took Murphy by suprise, and he hesitated for a moment, looking back at Bellamy with his mouth hanging slightly open and a blank look on his face. He finally shifted his gaze, and instantly regretted, as he could practically feel Bellamy’s satisfied smirk. 

"Knew it." 

"What?" Murphy snapped his head back up, locking eyes with Bellamy.

"You missed me."

The air seemed thin and vibrated with every little noise, scrape and shudder of the fans.

"I didn’t fucking miss you, Bellamy Blake,” Murphy growled, leaning in closer before pushing him straight in the chest and back onto the floor. “Trust your inflated ego to come to such a ridiculous idea,” The more Murphy glared and him, the wider Bellamy smirked, until it was almost unbearable for him. 

"Yeah you did. You missed me. You got all lonely and went to come find me."

"Shut the fuck up, Bellamy,"

"Why? You seem kinda touchy about this."

"There is no 'this'. You’re just making shit up to make you feel better about yourself. Better about kicking that crate and handing me to the grounders, special delivery,” 

Bellamy’s brown darkened and an almost regretful look appeared on his face, visible even in the low lighting. 

"That was ages ago," he said, his voice low.

"It doesn’t feel like ages ago for me," Murphy replied, breathing out and sinking back against the wall. 

A loud noise, similar to the sound of grinding wheels and screeching metal, bounced off the walls, breaking the the tense atmosphere of the warehouse. Bellamy looked around him furtively, half-expecting someone to appear outside their cage.

Their cage. Since when did it become their cage. 

He moved towards Murphy again. 

"Murph, you really gotta get that wound clean," he said.

"Yeah, sure. Lemme just grab the first aid kid they left us," Murphy bit back, his sarcasm masking the pain that throbbed in his leg.

"Did they leave us any water?"

"No."

"…We can clean it with spit."

"Spit?"

"Yeah, I mean, just to get the rest of the poison out."

"I’m not gonna rub spit on myself."

"Fine, then I’ll do it."

Bellamy leaned forward as Murphy jerked backwards.

"I don’t want your spit on me either!"

"What, you don’t like that?"

"Shut the fuck up, Bellamy." But he was leaning closer again and Murphy felt his back press up against the bars again. 

"Ok, we can use yours," Bellamy’s voice had dropped considerably and was close to a whisper. Their faces were close, close enough for Murphy to see Bellamy’s blown pupils and watch him swallow. 

He didn’t say anything as Bellamy slipped two fingers into the other boys mouth, only returning his gaze with the intensity it was delivered with. He carefully twisted his tongue around Bellamy’s fingers, watching as he blinks momentarily. 

Murphy isn’t sure what he sees in Bellamy’s eyes, or in the guarded expression on his face. But he knows what he wants to see. He wants to see the intensity that he only saw in Bellamy. He wants to see him open up like he does with no one else. For a second his want turns into hope and he sucks Bellamy’s fingers experimentally. 

Bellamy opens his mouth and releases a sound not unlike a groan. He felt Murphy’s tongue around his fingers and he forget about the wound, and the cage and the Mountain Men. He registered the familiar competitive glint in Murphy’s eyes and felt him suck again. 

A achingly slow chill slid down Bellamy’s spine, staring into Murphy’s deep blue eyes, and he breathed in slowly again.

Another sound resonated in the room. The solid iron doors at the end of the hall began to slide open. Both boys scrambled apart, staring through the thin bars towards the doors. They finally slid open to reveal two men dressed entirely in black, holding the sagging figure of another man between them, his head hanging towards the floor and feet dragging after them. Neither Bellamy nor Murphy spoke as the figures approached their cage, until the injured man lifted his head. 

Bellamy drew a sharp breath. “Monty,” he whispered staring at the familiar mop of black hair. His face was pale and bloodless, eyes sunken and his limbs looked frail and were covered in blood. 

The men dragged him into the adjacent cage, and left him lying on the floor. With a grimace, he turned to face them.

"Murphy-" he whispered, "They want Murphy."

Bellamy looked sharply at Murphy as he began to wrap the strips of cloth around his legs.

"Well boys," he said, sitting up on his knees, "I guess that’s my queue then." 

The men dressed in black shouldered their rifles.

"Yeah I’m coming, I’m coming," he muttered, moving towards the exit. Bellamy watched him go, dumbly, still sitting on the floor.

As he reached the gate, he shot out his hand and grabbed onto Murphy’s.

"You know, I-" he paused, looking into Murphy’s face, "I, I kinda missed you too." 

Murphy looked back at him, squeezed his hand once and limped out of the cage.

"Yeah," he grinned back, "I know."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set 2 x 10 AU Bellamy and Murphy have been stuck in Mount Whether for a week, but Murphy has stopped coming back. Bellamy finds it harder to keep fighting, but his salvation comes in the form of the new grounder alliance. But their rescue mission leaves someone behind…

Bellamy’s fingers were curled tight around the thin iron bars, his back straight and tense. The distant shouting and banging had been growing louder for some time now, and Bellamy’s every hair was on end. He started at the sound of a gunshot followed by shouting and more gunshots.

He had been trapped inside the filthy cage for what seemed like months, but it had been closer to a week. On his second day, he vividly remembered Murphy’s unceremonious return. 3 stocky guards had dragged him down the stretching corridor, his bare feet dragging behind him, and his filthy fringe drooping over his eyes. They hurled him into their shared cage, pulling a groan for Murphy’s dry throat as the sharp edges caught on his injuries.

That night, or day, Bellamy had no way of knowing, Murphy slept fitfully. His forehead covered in sweat, thin bandages holding his stitched side together. Bellamy did his best to make it more comfortable for him, but as Murphy’s breathing evened out and his face relaxed, he could only hold his grimy hand and stroke his hair.

They had put Monty in a cage a few rows over, most of the time he was asleep, but sometimes he told Bellamy about what they did to him. About this gruesome hell that he had stumbled into.

It had been a while since then and Murphy was gone. They had taken him again whilst they had Bellamy. The pain that he had felt was doubled, knowing that Murphy was feeling it too. That this would be the fate of all of them. When he lay, barely conscious, on the operating table, unfamiliar thoughts and feelings brushed against his heart and he felt his stomach twinge. He wanted to stay awake, alive, because he wanted to be there for Murphy. To hold his hand again and make him comfortable. He wanted to stay alive for this reckless mess of a boy.

And he had. But when they shoved him back between those cold bars, the cage was screamingly empty.

"Where is he?!" He shouted at the retreating figures of the guards, "What the fuck have you done to him?"

They took Bellamy again, and again, and again. Until all he knew was pain and all he wanted was a hand to hold and voice to tell him it would be alright. Murphy was still gone. Monty was barely there. His head was giddy from blood loss and his body covered in scars and open wounds. He lay on the cage floor in complete silence for hours, focusing on breathing. It was all he could manage anyway.

Until he had heard it. It was a familiar sound. One he had come to know like the sound of his own voice. Gunshot. And shouting. Screaming. He knew it, the sound of chaos. It made his hands curl around the iron bars and pull him to his knees. It tugged a smile across his lips from deep within him because that sound reminded him of his friends. His people. Of Murphy.

His breathing was shallow as the sounds came closer. Shouting, more gunshots, orders barked by a very familiar female voice-

"Bellamy!"

The door crashed open and a wave of filthy, bloody teenagers stormed through, headed by Clarke and an unfamiliar grounder warrior.

"Clarke-" He rasped, stretching his arms through the bars.

"Over here!" Yelled another familiar voice, and he was staring into his sister’s face, "It’s alright Bell, we got you now it’s okay." She sobbed, grasping his arms. Clarke and the grounder busted the locks open, and Octavia wrenched the gate open. Bellamy fell into her arms, to weak to climb out. His legs screamed in pain but his mind was silent, if only to chant thank you thank you thank you.

The now blurry figures of Jasper and Miller pulled him into a stretcher and Bellamy watched them with foggy interest, until the blurs became smudges, like one of Clarke’s pretty drawings, until they were nothing.

—-

Bellamy was jerked awake as Miller tried to place him at the base of a tree. He felt groggy and exhausted. But his stomach gave a leap as the past events surfaced from his memory again.

"Clarke" He managed, and Miller looked back over to him, concern obvious in his eyes.

"Hey, Clarke! He’s awake." He shouted over his shoulder, and the blonde strode into view.

"Bellamy, how are you feeling?" She cautioned, offering her water canteen.

"Shit." He took a long gulp of water, and it tasted like water never had before. It cleared his throat, his mind, and he felt the heavy fog lift off his body.

"That didn’t taste like water," he mumbled.

"It isn’t," replied Clarke, in her usual curt manner, "Lincoln helped me make it, it deals with the pain better than any anaesthetic I’ve known."

As he exhaled, he looked around him. They were sitting in a small clearing somewhere in the forest. Octavia was sitting nearby, sharpening her blades. Jasper was reapplying bandages to Monty’s shoulder. The rest of the 42 were scattered around the ground, fatigued and shaking from exertion. But someone was missing.

"Murphy," He croaked, "Where’s Murphy?"

Clarke and Miller looked down at him in confusion, and Octavia wondered over.

“Murphy?" Asked Clarke.

"Murphy. He was in there. He was with me, we were trapped. Did…did you get Murphy?"

"Murphy was never with us," Said Miller, "trust me, I would have noticed."

"Bellamy we didn’t find Murphy down there," Octavia said, and her voice was too calm, too gentle. She didn’t understand that Murphy was still down there, they couldn’t leave without him.

"We need to go back and get him," Bellamy pushed himself off his feet and staggered against the tree behind him.

"Woah," Warned Clarke, "What do you think you’re doing? You’re a mess, Bellamy, you need to rest."

"No, Clarke!" He said, rather forcefully, "What I need to do, is finish this job and find Murphy.”

"Find who?" Bellamy turned his head towards the telltale brown ponytail and limp marking Raven’s arrival. She was carrying, what looked like, a box of junk and had a spanner jammed under her chin.

"Bellamy says Murphy was caught with him," Octavia explained.

"What the hell were you doing with Murphy?" Asked Raven, setting down the box with a thunk.

“I wasn’t with him,” Bellamy grumbled, very aware of the time they were wasting, “He was already in there when they threw me in. They tore him up pretty bad, I haven’t seen him in 3 or 4 days.”

"Then how do you know he’s still alive?" Raven did not, nor any of the others, anticipate Bellamy’s reaction.

"Shut-up, Raven!" He shouted, standing as tall as he could against the tree and stepping towards her, "Don’t you dare say that. I never leave a man behind, dead or alive. I’m not about to start changing that, and I’m not gonna let any of you stop me."

"Since when was he one of your men, Bellamy?" Raven retorted, adopting a defensive stance. 

"Since the start," He growled, and pushed Raven roughly aside, limping down the short incline and through the clearing. Octavia sidled up beside him, slipping one of her long blades into his hand. He smiled down at her with a mix of gratitude and apology. She merely turned around and called out to the clearing, "Alright people, listen up! We still got one person left down there. One…very important person. Anyone who is able to help, come with us. And bring weapons."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and feedback appreciated! Last chapter will be up soon xx


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy convinces everyone to head back into Mount Weather to find Murphy. Everyone’s thinking the same thing but no one wants to say it.

Miller shouldered his rifle, eager to be back with two feet in the action after being cooped up like sitting ducks for so long. Some guys around him followed suit, which in turn spurred others to move. Shortly, Bellamy was walking, rather uncomfortably, but still walking, at the head of a straggly bunch of teenagers in dirty rags as they made their way back down into the tunnels. Clarke held one of his arms, and Octavia gripped the other one, offering him just the amount of support he needed.

"You do realise that Raven might be right," Clarke whispered, as the group entered the dark and musty underground tunnels.

"Yeah, I know," he replied, "But I’m not gonna believe it till I see it." He could almost feel Clarke’s pitying smile.

Pretty soon, the crumbling dirt walls turned to grimy pavements, and then into empty, steel walls. Octavia had left his side and was walking with the grounder, directing people to different positions.

"Who is she, by the way," he asked Clarke, who was still beside him, "The grounder? Is she like Lincoln?"

Clarke chuckled slightly. “Of course, I forget you weren’t here. There’s a truce now, between us and the grounders. That’s Commander Lexa, she’s the grounder leader.” Bellamy was silent for a moment, his brain coming up blank with answers. Then finally he shook his head in disbelief, “Well I never thought I’d live to see this day.” Clarke flashed him her lopsided smile. “Finn would be proud, I reckon.” He continued, and she stared wistfully ahead. “Yeah…”

It seemed that whatever Clarke had given him earlier was beginning to wear off, because the wounds in his side were beginning to send waves of pain up his spine again. He gritted his teeth together and limped a little faster down the tunnel. It spiralled off into various opening and doors, which were checked by miller and his boys. I’ll find him thought Bellamy. I’ll fucking find that asshole.

The pain was growing steadily worse and Bellamy felt a sharp pang like a dagger wound. He doubled over, spluttering onto the floor.

"Bellamy!" Clarke said sharply, "Bellamy, you’re not alright slow down."

"I’m fine, Clarke."

"Don’t be an idiot, we don’t have time for this."

"You’re right, we don’t. We gotta keep going."

He limped on, following the others whilst Clarke muttered in exasperation, trying to find more medicine to give him. The group rounded another corner and he saw it. All the doors here looked the same, but not this one. It’s image was ingrained upon Bellamy’s memory forever, he knew what it meant, what it symbolised, and it send an immediate shiver down his spine.

"That’s it," he grunted, pointing it out to Clarke. It was then that his weakness seemed to take him completely. He’s knees felt like rippling water and he was almost not aware of Octavia and Lexa rushing past him to bust open the door. He staggered to the entrance and as his eyes adjusted to the harsh, pale lighting, he saw him.

Lying there. Completely alone and still.

"Murphy!" He shouted, gripping to the side of the doorframe as Clarke, Miller and some others pushed past him into the room.

Murphy was lying on the operation table, his body beaten and broken. He reminded Bellamy of when he had limped into camp, returning from the grounders. Except this time, there was no scathing remark. Abandoned surgical instruments and equipment were scattered on the tables around him, fresh with blood, and the thin robe they had tied around him did nothing to hide the criss cross of scars, cuts and lacerations.

Bellamy could only watch as Clarke and Miller took him by the arms and shifted him off the cruel slab. His head lolled forward, feet scrabbling against the tiles. Bellamy didn’t recall notice moving over to him, but he had Murphy’s head in his hands, and brushed his fringe out of his eyes.

"Murph-" He croaked, "Hey, are you there?"

Murphy lifted a bruised eye and looked at Bellamy. The look of relief and recognition poured over Bellamy’s shoulders like warm water. He lifted the corner of his mouth in a crooked smile.

"Hey, you didn’t forget about me." He barely whispered.

"That would be a pretty hard thing to do," Bellamy replied, tightening his grip on the back of Murphy’s head and neck.

"C’mon, Bellamy, we gotta get out of here ASAP", said Miller, adjusting Murphy’s body into a comfortable position for him and Clarke to support. They moved past him, and he watched them go, a relieved smile settling on his face. Octavia sidled up beside him.

"That applies to you too, Bell." She slung his arm over her shoulder and together they walked out of the tunnel, Bellamy’s gaze never leaving Murphy’s figure ahead of them.

As they arrived back at the clearing, Jasper stood up and helped Clarke and Miller lay Murphy down on a mat of jackets and blankets, a patched-up and healthier looking Monty watching from a nearby stump. Bellamy fell to his knees beside Murphy, not particularly caring who saw him at that point. His hands curled into the blankets and he felt hot tears push at his eyelids.

Behind him, Clarke motioned for everyone to stand back a bit and give him some space.

"We’re gonna go get some more water, and then I’ll have to clean out his wounds, alright?"

Bellamy nodded tightly and the clearing felt blissfully quiet and Clarke, Octavia, Lexa and Miller left. He crouched over Murphy, who was awake, but barely. He took his hand and gingerly squeezed it, and felt something lurch in his chest when he felt Murphy squeeze back. Bellamy didn’t remember being this gentle with anyone other than Octavia.

"You really thought I was gonna leave you?" He asked, his voice cracking and betraying him.

"I was kinda hoping you wouldn’t. I like…prayed and shit."

"You prayed for me?" Bellamy teased, but his eyes were still watery. Murphy smiled back, before coughing terribly. Bellamy placed a supportive hand around his neck.

"I knew you weren’t dead. Everyone else thought you were, but I knew you weren’t."

"How?"

"You even said it yourself, this is your speciality."

Murphy attempted something like a laugh. “Yeah, I’m unbeatable.”

"Just…don’t do it again."

"Aw, Bellamy. Are you gonna cry? Do you wanna kiss me now, or some-"

Bellamy wondered how someone who had just withstanded days of torture could still manage to be such an ass, before he realise who he was dealing with.

He leaned forward and kissed him. Murphy’s lips tasted slightly metallic, like blood, but they were softer than Bellamy had ever imagined. It was a gentle kiss, probably the sweetest he had ever given. But before he could pull away, he felt a hand grip the back of his neck and pull him in, deepening the kiss. Murphy kissed him back with the same silent intensity that radiated off him. His tongue ran across Bellamy’s lips and it stirred a deep passion and need within him. He opened him mouth to Murphy and ran his fingers across his jaw.

When they finally broke for air, Murphy’s fingers were tangled in Bellamy’s messy curls and his lips were red and swollen. Bellamy took his hand again and lay down next to him gently.

"Maybe I should get tortured more often," he wheezed, playing with the bottom of Bellamy’s shirt.

Bellamy sighed and tightened his grip on his hand.

"Shut up, Murphy," He said, but for some reason, those words didn’t quite pack the same punch when they were filled with affection, warmth and emotion.

When Clarke and the others returned back to the clearing, they all had to pretend they didn’t notice Bellamy and Murphy holding hands, or the flustered expression on his face as he muttered something about finding some firewood.

But absolutely no one could ignore Murphy’s satisfied smirk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end! Thanks for reading and I take requests on my blog (:

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and feedback appreciated! And visit me on tumblr murphylaws.tumblr.com xx


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